by Lucy Dickens
I pore over the job specifications, racing through the words, feeling my heart quickening. Full-time, paid, permanent, working in the digital department creating content for the magazine’s website, deadline in six weeks. Must have a proven passion for travel, a great eye for detail, be familiar with the brand and writing styles, and have some journalism experience on a national publication. Well, I don’t quite have that, but I do have a degree in journalism and have been at the paper, albeit copy-editing, for a solid couple of years. What is it they say? That often women hold themselves back because they won’t apply for a job if they don’t tick all the boxes, but men will apply if they tick at least some of them? I don’t need this to stop me, not at all.
But wait a minute, this isn’t part of the plan. What plan?
But they won’t consider me for a job so soon after chucking away the internship. So don’t cancel the internship.
But … wouldn’t it be wrong to go ahead with the internship if I apply for this? Who knows … ask them? Maybe they’ll be impressed by your ambition?
I can think of a lot of reasons not to think any more about this role, not to add an extra thing to think about into my already bursting braincells, but I can also think of just as many reasons why I should put the brakes on and consider applying. This is the job I want. This is something I could do, and that I love, and that I could get paid for. This is a dangling carrot to put my life back on a track. This is something I can control. This is the adventure I, maybe, should catch.
But how can I go chasing adventures, when I’m still struggling to pick myself off the ground? I’m so conflicted on what to do, on who I am, and what the best decisions to make are. If I go to London and all that happens is that I sit and pine for the way life should have been there with Matt, then maybe London isn’t for me, after all. Maybe neither is working on a big, giant magazine in a big, giant city. I can’t uproot myself and move away from everything I know on a ‘maybe’.
Can I?
Chapter 10
Slow down, girl, slow down
We are on island time now
Sayonara, Matt
By the following morning I’ve made a decision. All the opinions in the world couldn’t tell me if it’s the right decision, but it’s my decision, and I owe it to myself to trust it.
I’m completely surrounded by bright, dewy green right now. Kaori had us up at the crack of dawn to head to Arashiyama Bamboo Grove before the crowds rolled in, and although I can’t stop yawning my head off, it’s worth it to have the tunnel-like, reed-lined pathways to ourselves.
The path weaves its way through the long, thin bamboo that stretches so high into the sky that you can barely see any blue up above. The trees creak with quiet satisfaction as the breeze tickles their leaves, and the air is tinted with a fresh, forest scent. It’s serene. The perfect ending to my time on the tour.
‘Kaori, could I have a word?’ I ask, touching her arm. She falls back into step with me, leaving the other four to continue on ahead, tilting their necks back and taking a million photos.
‘How are you today, Charlotte?’ she asks.
I hesitate, unsure how to put this in words when the last thing I want is for Kaori to think this is because of her or the tour she’s organised.
‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m struggling a little bit.’ She nods, and I think she has noticed. I continue, ‘Ever since calling off my wedding everything has been such a whirlwind and I think it’s just starting to sink in now. I thought coming on this trip would be a good distraction, but also a good way to get a bit of alone time. I don’t really know who I am and when I try and work on that at the same time as try to be present and included in all of the amazing activities you’ve planned for us, I’m getting a bit overwhelmed. I’m worried that if I continue with the tour, everybody else isn’t going to get the best out of it, and I don’t want to be the cause of that.’
‘I understand,’ Kaori says in her soft voice. ‘It’s very hard to be yourself and follow your heart when you are with strangers and being told where to go and what to do.’
‘Please know, though, that I think the tour is incredible. I’ve already done so much and learnt so much, thanks to you. I think I need to step back, figure out who I am without any noise, and travel on my own for the rest of my time here.’
So that is my decision. I’m not going to leave Japan, but I am going to leave the tour. If I need – and want – to be just me, myself and I for a while, then Mara was right: the solution isn’t giving in and going home. I have a twenty-one-day rail pass, I have a little spending money still, I have my Duolingo app, and I have to do this.
‘I will be very sad to see you go, but I think this is a good thing for you. It’s a very Japanese thing, actually. Have you heard of the term ikigai?’
I shake my head.
‘Ikigai is a concept in Japan which is about finding your purpose and living happily. I think you should look it up, it might help guide you a little.’
‘Thank you, I will.’ I’m not sure I’m ready to find my life’s purpose, though; I’d be happy to just find my own voice at this point.
‘You know, ikigai has foundations in the Okinawa Islands, of which Ishigaki – my home island – is one.
Okinawa is one of the world’s five blue zones where people live long and happy lives.’
‘Funny you should mention that, because Ishigaki has been on my mind since you mentioned it the other day …’
Back in the heady days of honeymoon planning, there had been one doubt that hovered in my mind about Japan being the perfect post-wedding destination. Everybody kept telling me, you’ll be absolutely shattered, just pick a beach break and relax. Were we going to be crawling about on our hands and knees dying of lethargy if we attempted an action-packed month-long expedition in a brand-new country with a brand-new language barrier?
But as much as the idea of zonking out on a sun lounger and being brought a kaleidoscope of cocktails sounded pretty ace, we just kept coming back to Japan. We would be between jobs and renting anyway, so when else would we get a string of weeks to jet off and see the other side of the world? If I tried to take a month off in my new career it would wipe out my whole year’s holiday leave quicker than you could say bullet train.
However, now I have the opportunity to have the best of both worlds. Kaori mentioned the low-cost airline that goes to Ishigaki from Osaka, a city not far from Kyoto that I could get to using my rail pass. I’m going to treat myself to a few days on a sun lounger.
‘That’s so fantastic!’ Kaori cries. ‘You can get in touch with me at any point while you’re there if you need any tips or anything. Try the snorkelling! Ooo I’m jealous.’
At that point, Flo turns around, looking very Survivor hottie framed by all that bamboo, to see what Kaori is cheering about.
‘Can I speak to you all for a minute?’ I ask, and when they’ve gathered around I tell them my plan. They’re understanding, of course, but they say what they can to convince me to stay.
I shake my head, touched by their kindness. ‘I’m sorry. I hate to be all “it’s not you, it’s me”, but that’s honestly true. You’re all lovely and have made me feel so welcome and taught me a lot,’ I say the last part to Kaori. ‘But you all deserve to have the best honeymoon possible, and I need to do a bit of soul-searching. A big part of why I came on this trip was to prove to myself that I could be by myself for a while and stand on my own two feet, and I haven’t done that yet. And I don’t think I will by being on this tour. If I keep hanging around and using you all as my comfort blankets, I’m never going to take that leap of faith that I need to do to figure out how to think for myself. So if I stay, none of us are going to get what we need out of this trip.’
‘You’re a brave girl,’ says Cliff in his magnificent drawl, and leans in to give me a stubbly hug and a fatherly pat on the hair, which I haven’t had for, oh, a very long time.
‘I hope you understand. And I hope to se
e you again at another point in the tour. I know I can’t get all my hotel monies back so if the stars collide perhaps I could join you for dinner or something, somewhere.’
‘I’d bloody love that,’ answers Flo, throwing her arms around me and squeezing me, as warm as she was the first evening we met. ‘Keep in touch with us all as you go around, okay?’
I agree, and we all swap details and say our goodbyes. ‘Oh—’ I say, almost forgetting. ‘If you’re on Instagram connect with me, because as you know I’m vlogging my way around Japan. The video Kaori was in the other day has been watched over two hundred times!’
Kaori cheers and I double check if they’d all be happy to give their permission for me to use footage I’d taken with them over the past few days on my channel as well. They are, and as they all crowd around Kaori’s phone to watch her starring moment, I quietly back away down the bamboo-lined path and say a final, silent farewell.
Kaori catches my eye when I look back and she bows her head at me and smiles. I do the same back to her.
‘Now,’ I murmur to myself as I stroll back towards the train station. ‘Where the chuff is my ikigai …?’
By early afternoon I’m in Osaka airport, clutching my ticket for Peach Aviation to take me to the island of Ishigaki for five whole days. It’s not the airport I thought I’d be in, or the destination I thought I’d be flying to, when I spoke to my siblings yesterday afternoon, but I made a change to my situation and I think that means I am super grown-up and mature now.
I’ve also spent the last forty-five minutes finding out everything I can about ikigai, ready for this epiphany I was due to have.
Here’s some cool things about the concept of Ikigai:
Ikigai is all about figuring out what makes you happy, what makes you want to get up in the morning, and how you can live your everyday life by it.
When ikigai refers to ‘life’s purpose’, it doesn’t need to be this massive, all-consuming, on-your-deathbed revelation for being in the world like we in the West would usually think of the term ‘life’s purpose’. It’s about finding happiness and purpose in everyday life. What makes you happy and gives you purpose today.
Because of the above, your ikigai can also evolve and change over time, and we don’t need to be worried that it’s set in stone.
In Okinawa people get super-old and some studies attribute this to their everyday sense of ikigai.
I can find my purpose, figure out what I want to do, without Matt, without anybody else’s opinions, then I think I can move on and plan this future that’s just opened out in front of me.
I look back at the job advert, which I’ve checked at least fourteen times today. One of the requirements for submission is to create a dynamic and interesting vlog of five minutes that I think would be interesting for visitors to the website. I don’t know what kind of thing makes a vlog stand out, so I guess I’d better do some YouTubing once I get to Ishigaki, but I’m sure some of the footage I’ve already shot and shared could be used to create something exciting at the end of the trip. I hope.
Another thing I’ve been perusing while loitering in the airport is accommodation for when I get to Ishigaki Island. I’ve chosen an inexpensive little guesthouse right near a quiet-looking beach, where the interiors are painted a sea-turquoise and soothing cream, and the room looks small – not capsule hotel small – but with a big window that faces the ocean.
At the airport I’ve treated myself to a can of coffee, a big hibiscus flower hairclip and a pink ‘Isigaki’ tank top to get me in the mood (and because I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere tropical on this trip and could do with an extra top where my armpits can go wild and free).
I’m nervous, sure, but I’m ready to branch out on my own again. Picking my own hotel, sitting here with my toes tickling to get out of my shoes and on to sand, choosing my own ‘how’ and ‘how long’ … it’s all pretty nice.
As the announcement calls me and I board and peer out of the window at mainland Japan, and then the plane sweeps me up into the clouds, I have a little word with Matt inside my mind:
Once upon a time, when you proposed to me, you said you’d never leave me. Well now I’m going to try and leave you.
I drive my rental car with the windows down, the warm wind kissing my face, the flower in my hair and freedom giving me another shot. The sea, in marbled blues and greens, basks on my left, flat and slow, and low palms mix with the greenery to the right of the road.
I’m on island time now, and I’m in no rush at all.
My guesthouse is just as pretty as the website showed, and the owner – a woman with dewy skin and a deep tan – pointed out to me in easy-to-follow Japanese and hand gestures where the shared bathroom could be found, the fridge of goodies that I should help myself to, a bell to ring if I need anything. She presses a map of the island and a can of soda into my hand and bows as she leaves me in my room. The first thing I do is fling open my window, rest my feet up on the sill, let the breeze investigate my soles, and take a big drink.
The job advert is playing on my mind, but it makes a nice break from wishing my time here away all because I can’t check out of heartbreak hotel. If I apply, I have to admit to having zero experience with vlogging, outside of the handful of IGTV episodes I’ve put up so far. But they’re just footage, mainly, nothing particularly dynamic or interesting. Apart from that episode with Kaori in Kyoto, that seemed popular.
I take my phone from my pocket, connect to the Wi-Fi, and watch a few travel vlogs on YouTube. Hmm. Each sweeping drone shot and stylised title sequence makes me realise how amateur my attempts have been so far. I need to seriously step up my game. But Adventure Awaits are recruiting for a junior member of staff, right? They wouldn’t expect videos of this quality … right? Well, maybe they would.
What can I bring to the table?
I remember then something that was said to me once: Tell your story of how the adventure feels to you. Make it authentic, and tell your story.
That’s it. Ariel was right. I’m not just a girl travelling around Japan, I have an angle. I’m on my honeymoon, alone. I’ve broken off from my group tour. I’m getting over heartbreak and I’m learning who I am. That’s my story, and without a drone, or a laptop full of editing software, that’s going to have to do. I can start with my IGTV vlogs, and hopefully I can piece together something great to show the magazine at the end. If I apply, of course.
Before I can change my mind, I set up my phone and face the camera, the breeze from the open window ruffling my hair, and I feel like I’m looking directly at my followers without a mask for the first time.
‘Hi, everyone,’ I start. I’m going to wing it. I can always edit it later, and I know myself: if I try and script something I will sound unbelievably robotic. The very opposite of authentic. ‘I’ve gone a little off-course here in Japan, but before I tell you about it, I should explain my situation for anyone who doesn’t know. For the past week, and for the next three weeks, I’m travelling through Japan … on my honeymoon. Only, the plot twist here is that I’m taking my honeymoon alone.’
I know the difference between being authentic and oversharing, so I keep some of the more personal details surrounding Matt and my fallout to a minimum – no need to slam him all over the internet, that’s never going to make me look good – and focus on explaining the journey I’m trying to take, and how it’s taken a swerve. ‘A happy swerve though,’ I laugh, glancing out of the window towards the beach. ‘I mean, look where I am – on the island of Ishigaki, and it’s a million miles away from the big city lights of Tokyo. In fact, the only light here at the moment is from the sunshine dropping down towards the ocean. I’m going to head down to the beach in a minute, but thanks for listening, and keep your fingers crossed for me to find my ikigai, okay?’
I switch the video off. That felt good, really good. I guess it was like journaling, in a way. I watch it back, just once, and decide I like it just the way it is, even with that strand of hair blowing
sideways throughout, and my eye make-up sweated off.
Bugger it. I share the video to IGTV.
All right. And now I shall succumb to the wishes of my toes and take them down to the sand.
Breathe in, two, three, four, hold, two, three, and out, two, three, four. I’m hanging on the beach, this beautiful little tropical beach that’s pretty close to Taiwan, and the sun is setting off to the side. With that comes a sky the colour of a motivational quote on Pinterest. Do you know what I mean? The kind that says ‘dare to dream big’. A pastel watercolour of soft blue and millennial pink, and the sea reflects it effortlessly.
My thoughts return to the topic of ikigai. It feels waaaaay too big to decide what my whole life’s purpose is, but I’ve done some reading and ikigai can change and evolve and you only really need to focus on the present. What do I want out of this trip, now that I’ve buggered off on my own?
That’s a hard question. I watch a couple further down the beach as they play-fight in the waves, laughing their heads off. A tiny part of me wants to go and join them but I think they’d find it mega-weird.
I want to see Japan, as much as I can, including all those places I would have liked to have included but that the tour didn’t incorporate. I want to try some new things. Oh …
As the girl down the beach does a perfect mermaid dive into the water and rises to the surface a few metres away, her curls glinting in the low sun, I realise something I need to do. I get my phone out, check there’s nobody in earshot, and start a piece to the camera with the sea behind me. Two in one day! You can’t shut me up now, it seems!
‘Hi adventurers,’ I start. Filming isn’t the thing I need to do, but you know how sometimes it takes telling people you’re going to do something to force you to do it? ‘I’m on the beach here in Ishigaki and I just realised something about myself, and it’s freaked me out a little bit but I think I have time to do something about it. If any of you have ever said to me, what do I like to do in my spare time, I’ve always probably said travelling, holidays, adventures. That’s been my “thing”. One of my sisters has always been the chef. My other sister has always been the CEO, like, her whole life. I was the explorer. I’ve always thought of myself as a big adventurer, happy to go anywhere and do anything. I read novels about people who go on adventures around the globe, I’ve subscribed to travel magazines since I was a little girl, I’m due to go and work at a travel magazine when I get home from Japan. In fact, it was a travel writer called Ariel Cortez at that very magazine who, maybe ten years ago, wrote an article about Japan and I’ve wanted to come here ever since. I saw her give a talk once and she said I should catch every adventure, which I thought I’d been doing. But … I think I might be a massive phoney …’
